


Gentle Hands

by WheelsUpIn_Five



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Cuddling, Dean's just not having a good time but its okay bc cas is there, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:54:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27495298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WheelsUpIn_Five/pseuds/WheelsUpIn_Five
Summary: “You okay?” Cas mumbled, his voice rough with sleep. The mattress groaned as Cas fumbled to turn on his bedside lamp, not breaking the contact between his hand and Dean’s back. A soft light partially filled the room, and Dean turned away from him, letting shadows cover his face. “Dean?”Taking an unsteady breath, Dean shook his head.Based off the prompt "Kiss it better"
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 10
Kudos: 142





	Gentle Hands

The alarm clock blared an ugly 4:03am, the numbers turning over agonisingly slowly. Dean screwed his eyes shut and steadied his shaky breath, not wanting to wake Cas, whose arm was still draped over his waist. He’d been there for hours, each second dragging by more slowly then the last. He knew he wouldn’t be getting back to sleep. Not with the stubborn pressure behind his eyes that wouldn’t leave no matter how hard he tried to cry. Not with the images of the suffering he’d caused, everyone he’d cared about dying, or worse. Not with the blood that stained every inch of his body. Carefully, he untangled himself from the sheets, Cas stirring at the movement, but settling again with the gentle reassurance of his return.

Dean didn’t bother letting the water warm before stepping under the shower’s spray, the cold water jolting him awake, but doing nothing to lift the thick fog from his head. This had become a familiar routine, spending many nights shocking his system out of whatever _ this _ was. He let the water numb his skin for a few minutes longer before reigning to the fact it wouldn’t help him tonight. Turning the heat, the water hit his back like bullets, biting at his skin as he scrubbed it raw.

Death and destruction remained etched into his mind, the weight of all those lives weighing heavy on his shoulders, the blood thick on his hands.

By the time he stepped out of the shower, steam had filled the room, obstructing his reflection from the mirror. He couldn’t stomach the thought of looking himself in the eyes. His skin felt like static, red and rubbed raw from fruitlessly scrubbing under too hot water. Everything still felt out of place, off-kilter, balancing precariously on the point of a blade. 

It was a fine line and he was walking it carelessly.

The mattress dipped beneath him as he sat on the edge of the bed, still restless. Everything in him wanted to get out and go for a drive to God knows where, but he had promised Cas he would come back. Besides, he couldn’t out run himself. 

A hand planted itself on his lower back, the palm cool and soothing against his angry skin. Dean leaned into the touch.

“You okay?” Cas mumbled, his voice rough with sleep. The mattress groaned as Cas fumbled to turn on his bedside lamp, not breaking the contact between his hand and Dean’s back. A soft light partially filled the room, and Dean turned away from him, letting shadows cover his face. “Dean?”

Taking an unsteady breath, Dean shook his head.

Admitting to it was one thing, but saying it aloud was something else entirely. Baby steps, he reassured himself. Baby steps.

Cas touched his shoulder. “Come here,” he said softly, his fingertips trailing down Dean’s arm. Dean let himself be guided to face him. 

The dim light cast gentle shadows across Cas’ face, his hair still mussed with sleep. Dean’s heart sank, another reminder making it abundantly clear that he had never deserved this —  _ him _ — but then again, he’d always known that. Everything he had was running on borrowed time. 

His limbs were heavy as he dragged himself back under the sheets, unable to meet his lover’s eyes. He didn’t need to see them to know they carried the concern fueled by old memories and broken apologies. He didn’t need to see the hurt he still caused.

Cas took one of Dean’s hands in his own and gently pressed a kiss to his knuckles. Dean jerked back, the contact almost burning. Dean stared at him, wide eyed for a moment, like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Cas...” He swallowed thickly.

“It’s okay.” Cas held his hands out, but they weren’t demanding, they never were. He was only ever patient and giving. 

An empty beat passed before he began to drop them, stopping when Dean hesitantly held his own out to them. A sign of trust. Cas tenderly turned Dean’s hand over and pressed his lips to his palm before taking his other hand and repeating the process, the sparks of his love spreading across Dean’s skin.

“You’ve done such wonderful things with these hands, Dean. You never cease to amaze me.”

“All they do is hurt people, Cas, and I don’t want to hurt you too.” His voice was barely audible, even to his own ears. 

“These hands have rebuilt Baby from the ground up numerous times. They make bookcases and the best apple pie I've ever tasted. They repair torn clothes and give the most amazing massages.” Cas pressed his cheek into one of Dean’s palms. “And they’re perfect for holding.” 

Something inside Dean broke, sharp and hot, tears rushing to his eyes. He could feel the love  _ radiating _ off him, stronger than anything else he’d felt before, kind and resolute. Dean didn’t know if he had ever been loved so completely before. 

Cas gently brushed the tears from Dean’s cheek before carefully pulling Dean into him, his head now resting on Cas’ chest. 

Dean had held Cas to his chest as he cried a number of times, losing his grace wasn’t exactly easy for him, but _this_ was a first time for him. The steady drum of the heart beneath him only made him curl further into him. The constant reassurance of the beat and the slow rise and fall of Cas’ chest grounded him, centering him in his messy mind.

“I love you so much, Dean Winchester, and I know I’m not the only one,” Cas said, squeezing Dean gently and pressing a kiss to his hair. 

It was there in Cas’ arms that Dean knew he could relax. The weight of them around him holding him securely, and the smell of honeyed copper that was so uniquely  _ Cas _ … he could find peace there. Even though his skin still crawled, and blood still stained his soul, he knew he was always welcome, always safe, and he could always find home in Cas. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope y'all enjoyed it :)  
> You can find me over on tumblr @wheelsupin-five along with a reblogable version of this story 
> 
> And as always comments and kudos are always appreciated! I'd love to hear what you think!


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